Of Magic And Being
by Odd-Bodkin
Summary: Quinn Williams was by no means your average witch attending Hogwarts. But as Voldermort's uprise continues she must come to terms with the just how much a life can go from being slightly absurd to insane within a single year.


A/N: Well, this is my first attempt at writing a half decent Harry Potter fanfiction. (Rather than for just my own amusement.) So I hope it reaches acceptable standards. This is also going to be a fanfiction about...well I don't know yet, so bear with it whilst it tries to find it's feet. (: I hope you enjoy.

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Of Magic And Schools

Quinn was well aware that she was never going to be a normal girl. From the moment she should've been pretending she was a Disney princess, Quinn was instead found punching her stuffed toys because they wouldn't talk back to her.

When the other students at her primary school had begun making friends, Quinn was sitting in the corner, quite happily reading books far beyond what should've been possible at her age. And when her girl class mates had begun to care about their looks...well, Quinn had formed an unhealthy obsession with amphibians.

But then had come Quinn's eleventh birthday. And from that point on Quinn became irrevocably and officially abnormal. She was a witch.

On that fateful birthday, Quinn's house had been assaulted by a giant tawny owl crashing through her parent's kitchen window, and whilst Mr and Mrs. Williams blundered around the kitchen in an attempt to catch the mad bird, Quinn had only sat at the table mourning over the loss of her birthday breakfast.

Needless to say when Quinn had been allowed to read her Hogwarts acceptance letter, rather than being sceptical, she had shrieked enthusiastically and asked her parents what it was like to fly on a broomstick.

"Sweetie," cooed Emilia Williams, "I think you might want to take a deep breath here. This is probably a joke, you know, from Uncle Ponton. You know how he likes to celebrate things...a little bit differently."

Quinn looked up at her Mother with innocent, hazel eyes that couldn't comprehend what she was saying.

"What your Mum's trying to say," explained her Father, "Is that the letter isn't real."

"But it is," replied Quinn shortly.

Emilia and Angus exchanged a glance at each other. They knew Quinn had been an odd child but there was a slight fear growing inside them that she could in fact end up like her Uncle Ponton. Emilia swept back her curly, long, blonde hair and sat down next to Quinn.

"It's just not possible, honey. Magic isn't real."

"But the owl," pointed out Quinn, "That was real. It delivered the letter."

"Maybe Uncle Ponton rented it out," smiled Angus kindly.

"Mummy and Daddy, I know magic is real. How don't you? Are you mad?"

It was at that moment Emilia and Angus Williams knew their daughter needed psychiatric help.

Sadly for Quinn's parents, though she did attend several therapy sessions, it wasn't enough to stamp out their daughter's firm belief in magic. Even more sadly for Quinn's parents she was able to prove it. On several occasions.

In one instance, when Emilia had been taking too long to sort her hair out for Quinn's liking, her daughter informed her that things would be much easier if she got a blue afro. Emilia had promptly scolded her child and told her to wait downstairs patiently. When she turned back to her mirror, much to her horror, Emilia saw a large fluffy mess of blue sitting upon her head.

In another occurrence, when the family car had broken down in the middle of the countryside, Quinn only had to say, 'Oh, you stupid piece of car! I want to go home!' and suddenly, the car sprouted wooden legs and started marching across the countryside back toward their home village, albeit rather unsteadily.

They also found it very hard to deny the fact that a woman, garbed in a dark green cloak and carrying a wand, had arrived (again in their kitchen) a few weeks after to explain the matter and take Quinn to Diagon Alley.

So despite their dreams of their daughter becoming a successful doctor or business woman, the William's family signed the consent form, finally allowing Quinn to attend Hogwarts; if only to escape from the horrors their child could create.

"So, err, what do we do now?" asked Angus timidly, as he rocked back on forth on his feet, with his brown eyes darting from side to side in panic.

"I don't know," whispered Emilia, "There is no Platform 9 ¾."

Whilst Quinn's overly cautious guardians were huddled together, her many suitcases on a borrowed luggage trolley between them, she herself was scrambling around on the benches nearby, trying to locate the mysterious platform from her letter. The woman who had taken her to the magical street, Professor McGonagall, had warned Quinn that the platform might be hard to locate but she hadn't really been paying attention at the time. After all, would you rather listen to a stuffy old professor or watch in fascination as a shop had spontaneously combusted into pink bubbles? That being said Quinn found herself regretting the decision.

"It's this way isn't it, Mum?" Quinn heard a timid voice ask.

With a snap of her head, Quinn looked down and saw a small, over-weight boy waddling through the crowd, an owl cage grasped tightly in his hands. If that didn't scream wizard she didn't know what did. Quinn jumped from her view point and landed in front of the plump boy with mousey brown hair and grinned manically.

"Hogwarts, yeah?"

"W-w-what?" yelped the boy, obviously terrified.

"Owl means wizard. You're going to the platform, right?"

A kind looking woman, who was quite plump herself, came up behind the boy and put a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at the inquisitive girl gently.

"Are you a muggle born, dear?"

"That's right," said Quinn proudly.

"Are you looking for-"

"Stay away from our daughter!"

After Emilia's outburst, and a brief confrontation about whether the woman was trying to kidnap Quinn or not, the two families settled into a light conversation about what it was like to be a muggle. After a short while, much to Quinn's relief, the boy who was apparently called Peter, pointed out that it was nearing eleven, and bought the conversation to an abrupt end.

"Oh sorry, we've held you up too long," apologised Peter's mother, "Peter and I here will show you how to get onto Platform 9 ¾. Only Quinn will be able to get through...magic wards and all that."

Whilst Emilia and Angus made a big deal out of Quinn's departure, tears and wails abundant from her mother, the girl herself acted much less fond of her parents and struggled to get away quickly; to the point of actually biffing her Dad on the nose. Following Mrs. Pettigrew and her son Peter, through the seemingly solid barrier, Quinn abruptly found herself looking upon the scarlet Hogwarts Express. And just like that, Quinn Williams knew she was about to have the best years of her life.


End file.
